Country Roads
by Lemur3402
Summary: short fic. Virgil and Gordon take a little break from the rescue business.


I was having a really awful day, so I channeled my anger into something creative. It's just a piece of goofy little fic that I thought might be fun to read. No rescues or anything, just Virgil and Gordon, hanging out, since they seem to lend themselves to this sort of thing.  
  
Standard disclaimer applies. I don't own them, I'm just borrowing them for a little while.  
  
  
  
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The sound of shushed giggling from beneath the high, wooden bed made Virgil Tracy roll quietly to his side and look over the edge. Two small, pajama clad rear-ends stuck from beneath the frame and he heard little hands shuffling on the hardwood floor.  
  
This scene looked all too familiar. He had grown up with four brothers, one of whom was a notorious practical joker and probably the brains behind Virgil's wake up call. He knew what he would find when he went for his shoes  
  
He waited until the children backed from beneath the bed and stood up. "Can I help you?"  
  
Twelve-year-old Matt jumped when Virgil spoke, "Uh, um." was all he could manage.  
  
His sister, Rachel, was much more vocal. "Hi Uncle Virgil!" she yelled as she threw herself at him and gave him a hug.  
  
"Hi yourself," Virgil replied not bothering to correct the child. Technically, they were second cousins, but the age difference between them made it hard for the 8 year old to understand the relationship. Besides, he rather liked it. "You're up awful early aren't you?"  
  
The tow-headed little girl grinned back, "You slept awful late. Granny says she's not keeping breakfast waiting on you."  
  
"So she sent you up here to get me." He shooed her down and eyed them both seriously. "Now, where are my shoes?"  
  
Sheepishly, Matt got back on his knees and scrambled under the bed. After a few seconds of fumbling around, he came back out and held up a pair of beat-up tennis shoes, running shoes, and Virgil's hiking boots, all tied together at the laces in neat square knots.  
  
He raised an eyebrow as Rachel began to giggle. "And who put you up to that?"  
  
"Nobody," Matt replied too quickly, not wanting to give up his co- conspirator.  
  
"Well," Virgil said seriously, "I think I'll have a little chat with 'nobody' before breakfast."  
  
Virgil reached out and grabbed one end of the shoe-rope. "I'll start at this end," he told Matt, "You start at the other. That way we can both get downstairs to eat."  
  
Matt relaxed visibly and set to work; glad to see Virgil wasn't overly upset at his attempted practical joke. The intelligent, dark-haired boy was shy, and very rarely misbehaved. Of course, Gordon could inspire monks to riot, so corrupting an impressionable young mind was easy for him.  
  
Within a minute, the six shoes lay detached in a pile on the floor. "A piece of advice for you two," Virgil said. "When Gordon tells you to do something, think twice about it before you go and do it, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Matt responded.  
  
Rachel frowned up at him. "Why?"  
  
Virgil smiled at the child. "Because Gordon likes to play tricks on people."  
  
The little girl was confused for a second, and then her face lit up. "I get it! Like that can of springy snake things that he and Matt put in your sock drawer this morning!"  
  
Virgil tried not to let the shock register on his face as Matt clapped a hand over his sister's mouth. "I thought I told you not to say anything about that!" he hissed.  
  
Rachel gave a muffled apology as Virgil crossed his arms over his chest, trying very hard to be displeased as he enjoyed his young cousin's predicament.  
  
Matt looked around for his escape route as he dragged Rachel from the room. "You better hurry up, Virgil, Grandma had breakfast almost ready."  
  
He waited until the door closed behind them before he began to chuckle. It had been a long time since he had seen those two. Far too long.  
  
Breakfast or sleep? He mused. An interesting dilemma. Warm hand-stitched quilts covered the inviting depths of the soft mattress. He had always had trouble sleeping in a bed other than his own, but not here. There was a reason for that.  
  
The home of Margaret Baldwin resembled very much the farm where he had spent most of his childhood. One hundred acres of prime Oklahoma grazing spread out in all directions over the rolling landscape. The old farmhouse situated in the middle of the land dated back to the late-1800's, giving it a unique and rich character all its own.  
  
"Kind of like its owner," Virgil grinned. Lucille Tracy's oldest sister was a card, optimizing the characteristics of a Midwest woman who had been forced to make her own way and fight for everything she had. She was a warm and wonderful woman in spite of that, a caring soul that others looked to.  
  
After divorcing an alcoholic when she was in her thirties, Meg had set about building a life for herself in Oklahoma and bringing up her only daughter, Sara. She did that the only way she knew how and began to raise horses, just like her father had. She bought a little farm, naming it Shenandoah Ranch. There were never any Grand Champions among her stock, just solid, dependable animals that people could own and enjoy.  
  
Meg had done all right for herself. She began to give riding lessons and training horses, making enough money to put Sara through college and expand her farm. She wasn't filthy rich, but then, she didn't need to be. Life was straightforward and good.  
  
Then, it all came crashing down around her. Sara and her husband were killed in a car accident only two months after Andrew was born. The wounds from Lucille's death had still been fresh for Meg and for awhile, it seemed as though the woman stopped functioning. Still, she had managed to pull herself together and take custody of her grandchildren, raising them as she had done with Sara, and to some extent, the Tracy boys.  
  
Jeff Tracy had felt it important that his sons remain in contact with their mother's sister. She was their only living relative from that side of the family, and Jeff had always liked her. Every summer, they had been sent to the farm to stay with Meg. The summer usually began with the usual unwillingness to leave home, earmarked by groaning from the older boys and good bit of whining from the younger ones. However, by the end of the summer, nobody wanted to go home.  
  
Meg remained a large part of their lives. Values and lessons she had taught them all as children stayed with them all as they grew to be men. She talked to them as often as possible, usually by traditional hand- written letters. It was always one long letter for all of them, asking about each member of the family including Brains, Tin-Tin and Kyrano, none of whom she had ever met.  
  
Meg knew nothing about her nephew's involvement in International Rescue. As far as Jeff was concerned, there was no reason for her to know. It would cause her needless worry and endanger her life. Virgil agreed with him fully.  
  
Deciding that his absence at the table would probably invoke another visit from his cousins, Virgil swung out of bed and stretched, taking in the simple décor of the small room. The walls were white with a few pictures of mountains and animals hanging on them. An oak dresser sat in the corner, covered with a lace doily and beset with photos of his mother's family.  
  
A picture of Lucille caught his attention and he moved toward the piece of furniture. He had seen it the night before when he and Gordon had arrived, and found himself staring at it again. Gingerly, Virgil picked it up and ran his fingers over the image behind the smooth glass.  
  
She was smiling brightly, her long brown hair falling around her shoulders as she stood beside a tall chestnut horse, her cheek resting against the animal's nose. Her eyes held a dreamy, far away look. It was no wonder his father had fallen head over heels for her.  
  
His mother's love of horses was one of the things Virgil remembered most of her. The memory of him perched in front of her in the saddle came to him. He had been no more than 4 when Lucille had begun to take him with her to one of her favorite painting spots, carrying her collapsible easel and paints in the saddle bags.  
  
In a small clearing about a half an hour away, Lucille would paint for a bit. She always brought extra paper and finger paints for Virgil, letting his imagination run wild on the blank sheets. After a bit, she put her easel aside and play with him along the banks of the small stream. Actually, she spent more time running around with him than painting. As a result, it had taken a long time to finish that piece of work, well over a year.  
  
Virgil smiled as he remembered the piece. It was of the glade, with Lucille's horse grazing in the background. In the foreground, was an image of him as a child, wrapped in his mother's arms as she smiled over his shoulder. It was the only self- portrait Lucille had ever done. He knew that painting well. It hung in his rooms back on Tracy Island.  
  
Setting the picture down, he tore his mind back to the present, and pulled open the top drawer of the dresser, remembering Rachel's warning. He stepped back as the spring loaded plastic snakes leapt from the confines. The joke was not up to his brother's usual standards, but then he was mentoring a future prankster. He had to start small.  
  
Virgil dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt. Quickly, he pulled on thick wool socks to protect his feet from the cold floor. He would be heading back out to the barn, so he might as well ruin only one set of boots. House rules were that muddy footwear remained in the mudroom and never crossed the threshold into the dining room. All offenders would be shot. It was a warning Virgil took seriously.  
  
He left the room and went down the stairs stopping halfway when he saw Gordon on the spacious living room floor, playing with their youngest cousin, Andrew. The copper-haired young man was seated cross-legged, making engine noises as he sailed a toy boat through the air. Andrew clapped his hands and reached for the toy. Gordon immediately relinquished it to the sticky little hands.  
  
Virgil took a minute to study his brother. He was still a little pale and tired-looking from their ordeal, but on the whole he looked better. On their last rescue, both he and Virgil had been caught up in the wreckage of an off-shore drilling platform after the contraption had exploded, trapping nine men inside. They had gotten the workers out, but a second explosion had pinned Gordon to the wall with debris, ensnaring him as the water rose. It had been very close. Scott and Alan had pulled them from the rubble with only seconds to spare.  
  
Though unhurt, Gordon seemed tired and edgy after the incident. Virgil was feeling the strain himself. Even the members of International Rescue needed an occasional break to allow themselves time to heal, mentally and physically. The suggestion came up that a respite might be in order.  
  
For some reason, Gordon had suggested the visit Shenandoah Ranch and Virgil had agreed readily, surprising himself. It didn't seem logical. All of the Tracy's, even their father, had worked hard to leave the simple life of the country behind, reaching for impossible dreams and gaining world renown in what they did, even before International Rescue. They led sophisticated lives, doing exactly what they loved.  
  
And yet, if only for a little while, it was still good to forget that and just go home.  
  
Brains had gone to Thunderbird 5 to man the station so that John would be available to fly Thunderbird 2, should the need arise. Virgil still felt a little guilty leaving his brothers to deal with any rescue's that might arise. Usually, only he and Scott would go out, taking Alan or Gordon as needed. But what if something serious happened?  
  
He watched as Gordon picked up a submarine from the dark green carpet. "And what is this?"  
  
"Sub!" Andrew exclaimed triumphantly.  
  
"Gordon," Virgil said, alerting his brother to his presence, "Is it your mission to corrupt as many children as you can on this trip?"  
  
Gordon grinned up at him as Virgil leaned on the railing. "Morning Virgil."  
  
"You wouldn't happen to know about a certain cousin of ours that tied all my shoes together this morning, would you?"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about." The look on his face told Virgil different. No doubt Matt had already told Gordon of their foiled plans.  
  
"You don't want to play with those things, do you kiddo?" Virgil descended the rest of the stairs and scooped up Andrew. The child squealed with delight and put his arms straight out as Virgil held him over his head. "Ai-pane!" he yelled as Virgil spun him around.  
  
Aunt Meg came into the room drying her hands on a towel and smiling as she watched them play. "He's going to expect everyone to do that for him now."  
  
Virgil stopped spinning to smile at the lovely lady before him. No one would think her a grandmother. She was tall and strong, but still held a feminine quality about her, even in flannel. Her slightly graying brown hair was cut short, but was just long enough to swept from her face and behind her ears. She smiled at him, her deep eyes sparkling  
  
Nina, Meg's housekeeper came from the kitchen with a red piece of plastic in her hand. "Look what I found, Andy." The sweet, middle-aged woman exclaimed.  
  
"Rocket!" he said and began to squirm in Virgil's arms. Disheartened, Virgil put him down. Andrew ran over and took the toy.  
  
Gordon stood up beside him and laughed. "Guess we both struck out, Virg."  
  
They followed their aunt back into the spacious country kitchen and were immediately assaulted by the smells of breakfast. Eggs and bacon were frying on the stove, next to a skillet full of hash browns. It was heavenly.  
  
"So what's on the agenda today for you two?" Meg asked as she flipped pancakes on the old-fashioned range.  
  
Virgil headed for the coffee brewing on the counter. "I don't know." He responded, pouring a cup, "Have you given it any thought, Gord?"  
  
"No, I haven't." his brother replied, filching Virgil's coffee from the counter before he could add anything to it.  
  
Virgil scowled at him while Meg's back was turned, "What were you going to do today Aunt Meg?"  
  
She smiled. "I have a couple of lessons to teach and a stack of paperwork to take care of. This place doesn't run itself."  
  
"Life doesn't stop just because your favorite nephews come for a visit?" Gordon asked laughing.  
  
"Scott, John, and Alan are my favorites," Meg winked at Virgil, letting him know she was kidding. She loved them all to death.  
  
"Maybe I'll just go home then," Gordon replied in a mock pout, sitting down at the table. "Send Scott out here to you in my place."  
  
She set a stack of pancakes down in front of him and gave him a peck on the cheek and a pat on the back. "Eat your breakfast, sweetie."  
  
Gordon obeyed, digging into his food with relish.  
  
"Is there anything we can help you with, Aunt Meg?" Virgil asked as he gratefully received a plate very similar to Gordon's and took a seat.  
  
"Land sakes, Virgil, you're out here to take a break, remember? I'm not sending you back to your father exhausted."  
  
"I'm sure you could find something for us." Gordon said after a swig of coffee. "I mean, you are letting us stay here for a week and eat your food."  
  
"And Gordon could eat you out of house and home." That earned Virgil a glare from his brother.  
  
"You two don't have to earn your keep." Meg told them.  
  
"When did that change?" Gordon quipped. "You used to threaten to make us sleep in the barn if we didn't get our chores done."  
  
"That was to make you responsible adults." She turned back to the stove.  
  
Virgil opened his mouth, but Gordon cut him off. "Don't even say it."  
  
He grinned and let Gordon off the hook. "Come on Aunt Meg, there must be something. We'll go nuts just sitting around all day watching TV."  
  
Meg sighed, thinking. "Well, there is a fence up on the north side of the property that needs to be fixed."  
  
"Up next to the pond?" Virgil asked. Meg nodded.  
  
"We can do that," Gordon said. "And we can take a look at that tractor of your's out there in the yard."  
  
"Gordon Tracy, you leave that tractor alone," Meg scolded lightly. "I don't want either one of you near it."  
  
"Aunt Meg, it was coughing something fierce when Charlie was using it yesterday. . . "  
  
"I remember the last tractor you boys 'fixed'," she shook her pancake turner at Gordon, amusement dancing in her eyes. "That thing took off doing 65 miles an hour through the hay field. It was a wonder you didn't kill Charlie that day."  
  
Virgil grinned. Charlie was the old Native American man that had been helping Meg out as long as he could remember. He was full of great stories and knowledge. Campfires had always been fun with him.  
  
"Alan isn't here to trick it out this time," Gordon reasoned. "That was all his idea, you know."  
  
"Why am I not surprised?" Meg said as Rachel and Matt ran into the room, dropping their book bags near the entrance to the kitchen. She addressed her grandchildren. "You two better get moving, if you want breakfast. Did you both feed your horses?"  
  
"Yes Grandma." They replied together.  
  
Matt switched on the television. "Grandma, I'm going to check on the weather, okay?"  
  
"Hoping for a sudden snowstorm?" Gordon asked, smirking. Matt just grinned back as he went to get some orange juice.  
  
Rachel came over to Virgil and climbed up on his knee. "Granny, do we have to go to school today?" the little girl whined.  
  
"Yes, Rae." Meg answered absently, reaching past Matt for butter from the fridge.  
  
"But Uncle Virgil and Gordon are here."  
  
"And they'll be here tomorrow, which is a Saturday," Meg countered quickly with experience born of a grandmother, "you can harass them all day. Come here and eat your breakfast."  
  
The little girl hopped down and sat at the plate Meg set on the table. Nina came in with Andrew and set him in a high chair.  
  
The two older children were only halfway through their meal when a honking sounded outside.  
  
"Charlie's ready to leave," Matt gulped down the rest of his orange juice. "C'mon Rae, we're going to be late." He grabbed his book bag and a sack lunch from the counter. "Bye everyone."  
  
Rachel ran to Virgil and hugged him again, then to Gordon, and finally to Meg. "See you after school!" she said before slamming out the door.  
  
"Uh, Aunt Meg. . . "  
  
"Wait for it," she said calmly sitting down at the table, sipping coffee.  
  
Rachel ran back into the house, grabbed her bags and flew out again. "Bye!" Again the door slammed.  
  
"Does she ever get tired?" Gordon asked.  
  
"She collapses about 9 every night." Meg said. "But other than that, no."  
  
Virgil smiled. He was falling in love with that little girl. She reminded him very much of Sara, a little scatterbrained, but just as sweet. He was going to have to start writing to the child when he responded to Meg's notes.  
  
Andrew began to play with his food and Nina picked him up to clean him off in the upstairs bathroom.  
  
Virgil stood and moved back to the coffee pot. After refilling, he turned and stopped with the cup half way to his mouth. Quickly he set it down on the counter and reached for the remote, turning up the volume on the television.  
  
The caption bar of the news program read Charleston, South Carolina. An anchorwoman in a blue windbreaker yelled over the roaring wind. ". . . this amazing rescue was only made possible through the efforts of International Rescue." Gordon stopped chewing and looked up. "All six people were extricated from the house successfully and are recovering this morning at local hospitals."  
  
The shot changed to show a weather map with a large mass of green indicating a large band of heavy rain falling over the southeastern United States. The system is expected to move off later today."  
  
"They should have said something about the rescuers." Meg spoke up casually as the story changed. "I mean after all, they did risk their lives to save those people."  
  
"Yeah," Virgil agreed, not taking his eyes off the screen.  
  
"It would be nice to know they're all right, wouldn't it?"  
  
Neither of the brothers answered her this time.  
  
"The phone is in the living room, Virgil."  
  
Virgil spun around to look at her. Gordon was fighting down a look of astonishment as well. "What are you talking about, Aunt Meg?"  
  
"I'm just telling you where the phone is." She smiled knowingly. "In case you wanted to call home and make sure everything was all right. I would love to see your brothers again, but I sincerely hope they aren't coming to visit."  
  
Neither Gordon nor Virgil knew what to say as Meg sat and enjoyed their expressions.  
  
After a moment, she slowly stood up and walked over to Virgil. "I am very proud of you," she wrapped her arms around him in one of her strong embraces while motioning for Gordon to come to her. "All of you," She brought Gordon into the hug, holding on tight. "You've grown into outstanding people, just as I knew you would."  
  
Finally, she stepped back to look at them both. "And I know your mother would be proud, too. You remember to tell your brothers that."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Gordon responded softly.  
  
She touched them on the faces lovingly before moving back in to the living room, heading for her office.  
  
"God Virg, were we that obvious?" Gordon voiced Virgil's thoughts after the door to the office closed.  
  
"No," Virgil smiled softly. "I'm willing to bet that she knew all along."  
  
"How could she?"  
  
"She's Aunt Meg," Virgil replied simply, "We could never hide anything from her."  
  
They made use of Meg's offer and called home. They got a hold of Alan who assured them that everything was fine. Jeff caught their youngest brother on the phone with them and ordered Gordon and Virgil not to watch the news anymore. They both pledged to obey, neglecting to tell their father of their aunt's confession. That was something to be discussed amongst the five brothers in person. It was probably better if Jeff never found out about that.  
  
After hanging up, the two brothers found their boots and jackets to head outside on the crisp February morning.  
  
"You want to take the truck up to the fence?" Gordon asked as they left the backyard, crunching through the remnants of snow.  
  
Virgil thought while pulling on a pair of work gloves. "Maybe we could saddle a couple of horses and ride up there. Might be fun."  
  
Gordon grinned at the idea. "Sounds good to me. I haven't been on a horse in years."  
  
"Me either," Virgil replied, "but I'm sure we'll pick it up again quickly."  
  
Virgil clapped his brother on the back as they headed for the barn, pushing thoughts of International Rescue from his mind. He didn't want to think about it for awhile.  
  
Today, they were cowboys and nothing more.  
  
The End 


End file.
